


An Avenger is Born

by ViserraBlackfyre233



Series: The Era of Madness and Its Fiery Rebellion [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Aerys Is His Own Warning, Alaric snow centric, Angst, Character Death, Character Study, Child Abuse, Dark, Other, POV Character of Color, Revenge, from Aerys both tags, summer islander and naathi heritage character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:22:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViserraBlackfyre233/pseuds/ViserraBlackfyre233
Summary: One bad day is all it takes to drive a man from the happiness of what he had to a soul lost in the desire to avenge tragic wrongdoings that could have all been prevented with two lovers making different choices. This is Alaric's snows bad day and all who wronged him upon this day should beware the consequences of his fury.
Relationships: Aerys II Targaryen/Rhaella Targaryen, Lyarra Stark/Rickard Stark, Rickard Stark/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Era of Madness and Its Fiery Rebellion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971955
Kudos: 1





	An Avenger is Born

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you guys I'm back with a one shot of a lovely character I've developed whose going to be a big part the plot in the future series of this universe he's apart of and it's gonna be epic! It's apart of one of old school ideas I posted here years ago called All these years before I took it down to make it better, well it's coming back with a vengeance just like Alaric shall!  
> With Alaric's story I wanted to explore the consequences of how someone develops a grudge and it drives them to drastic lengths to hurt those who hurt them. So we shall see how far Alaric's moves in the future to fulfill his bloody vendetta!

(Alaric Snow Pov) 

Horror echoed in his soul as his head snapped back and forth with a loud ringing bouncing in his ears as a Kingsguard whoever he was sat down upon his struggling form. Defiantly attempting to launch a fierce swipe towards the enemy eyes. Such was Alaric’s nature to go for blood without even taking a second to think things through. 

Furiously watching that plan turn to dust within seconds as he growled like the enraged wolf he was. when he watched the Kingsguard grab his hand and brutally snapped it. Biting down on his tongue to the point of tasting copper due to the great pain he felt and listening to a loud crack of a bone out of place. But he refused to give the smirking bastard the satisfaction of listening to his screams of agony. 

Instead focusing his thoughts to endure this newest pain with thoughts of vengeance, “One day! He seethed I will you Kingsguard you just wait!”   
His head snapped back to the other side giving him a glimpse of the situation his father and younger he swore to always protect where in. Thinking with great shock to himself, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this!” He and his father had shown up to bail Brandon out of his impulsive mistake. 

His powerful father was ready for the battle he thought he was to have in order to save his heir. Dressed in his beloved steel armor purchased by his stepmother the late Lyarra Stark. Rickard Stark thought upon this day he was to endure a clash of blades with Aerys’s legendary Kingsguard. But instead something more dishonorable was in store. 

They had arrived to the throne room where Aerys clutching at little prince Viserys smiling happily. As the mad king regaled him with tales of wonder and terror of ancient Valyrian lords. Far too inappropriate for a child. if the look of distaste upon the queen’s face was anything to go by.   
Thus had been his first glimpse of a woman who simply had been battered by life in every way. Here was the king’s beautifully broken queen who stood by his side silently. Those lifeless violet eyes were passively observing what was to come and her fair cheek bore the sight of a bruise. While wounds in the shape of claws ran down her thin arms barely hidden by the gauze of her wonderous silks. 

“She looks like she’s been mauled by an animal!!” Alaric thought with great shock that the mad king would allow the court to see his queen appearing like this.   
Before he realized why and disgust settled in his bones for his father would never lay a hand upon any of the women in his life, dead or alive. He thought sarcastically, “But of course that animal is our lovely king himself.” 

Queen Rhaella’s state should have been a warning to the mood Aerys was in. For as they stopped to bow before the throne. After all despite their reasons for being here this king must be shown respect if they were to leave her alive and well. When they made to rise from the waist they received an eerie grin that set off warnings inside his head. But before he could find a way to warn his father he was stopped in place. 

A raspy voice declared with great pride, “Fire shall be the house of dragon’s champion!” Words he would never forget nor what came next.   
The doors shifted open distracting him from what he should have been paying attention to, a mistake Alaric in the future would vow to never make again. Enter was his younger brother drug in ill-fitted shackles and bruises covering his handsome face. The sight infuriated him to such a degree he made way to attempt to cut those holding him down with hot-bloodied fury. 

Instead he found himself blocked by a pair of swords from the skilled knights of the Kingsguard. Before his hand could move towards the sword he strapped his back. Or allow his feet to shift towards father to begin a combination of blades these southerner’s couldn’t counter in a thousand years. They became surrounded by too many men to make a move and he found himself in the exact same spot he started out with. 

Suddenly within the grips of his captor’s struggled watching furiously as two men ambushed his powerful fighter of a father on both sides. He hissed in his mind with great venom towards those men, “Cowards! Why don’t you face father in a real fight!” Attempting to exert control from his jailers so he could break free and assist father. But an armored fist crashed into the side of his face, he went still from shock sagging downwards and could only watch through the curtain of his hair.   
Those cowards were wary to face the great wolf knowing of his legendary prowess in battle. Proudly he thought, “Thanks to the war of the ninepenny kings…” Ignoring the crimson that flowed down his bruised face and the shrill ringing in his ears. Instead remembering how during his childhood he learned of how many golden company men fell to his blade ice in those harsh battlefields of the stepstones.

Seconds later, those wonderful childhood memories faded away and he could only gape in horror as he was shoved to the ground by a knee connecting with his stomach. A painfilled gasp escaped his lips as he bit into his cheek. Drawling crimson that dripped down his open mouth along the river that already flowed raging down his face. 

Now he could only see was the blurred form of what was happening before him. Watching his father being suspended from the rafters in his heavy steel armor. Alaric could only wonder in horrified curiosity, “What does this mad-man have planned for father and brother? Much less me?!” 

Minutes later, he found out the answer as an ominous chuckle escaped from those thin lips of a mad man obsessed with fire. Watching in what felt like the slowing of time as a pit became built beneath his father. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two Kingsguards holding Brandon’s squirming form in place as he tried his best to get their beloved father. 

Even in this situation he found that he could bare a smile, “That’s my little brother always a fighter!” He thought proudly. 

But that pride was wiped away in seconds as he laid their listening to his proud father grunt from shock and discomfort. And why wouldn’t he, when those evil pyromancers kept feeding the flames of roaring wildfire beneath him brighten its glow. Having enough he started to move to stand despite the pain his body was currently in. Biting back a grimace of both frustration and pain that quickly turned into fury at what he was witnessing, and that pushed him forward. For he saw his beloved little brother having a noose placed around his neck and his sword placed just out of his grasp. 

“A cruel thing to give my brother hope,” he thought furiously as he pulled himself from the ground and hand heading toward his blade ready to cut his brother loose.   
He took not a single step before feeling his body smashed into the ground once more. His head snapped back to the other side. Where he saw people just standing their witnessing this travesty. Vowing with contempt, “You bastards deserve all that the North shall bring you!” 

Smack, his head sailed to the opposite side once more. The horror he was struggling to forget entered his vision once more. Tears he would never shed appeared at the corner of his eyes. All the while listening to the furious screams of his brother and the anguish written across his face. Watching his brother struggle in vain to reach their dying father was almost too much for Alaric. The sight of it filled him with such a loathing that he was helpless to stop this madness. 

Minutes later, the horror show as over and the beatings he had endured since the moment was apparently over, until it wasn’t. Jerked to his knee’s harshly to see the sight of his brother’s limp body and the charred remains of his father being carried away for something more dishonorable to happen to them Alaric was sure. Briefly closing his eyes in grief that he had never known to such a degree before they opened into hardened ones. Refusing to wear the heartbreak anymore upon his face to give that sadistic bastard and his court the satisfaction. 

Salivating with undying hatred, “One wrong move by these bastards and I shall be free! And then you will die, mad king…. Even if it kills me!!” Committing this vow to heart that he would never let their deaths be unavenged and all who played a part today would perish beneath his bloodthirsty blade. 

Flowing crimson pooling down his swollen face from his defiance earlier when the blows became even harsher than before. In his second attempt to rush to cut down the noose that held his brother. Together they would take down the enemies surrounding their father and then rushed to pierce that mad man with their blades. But in seconds that plan like all the ones he thought upon today turned to ashes. 

Suddenly appearing before him in the emerald silk robes of some guild he didn’t recognize, “You’re a defiant bastard in the face of what’s to come….” Hissing ominously as if that was supposed to intimidate him, a warrior of the North. 

Sparking a deep hatred within Alaric for here was the man who just murdered his father with wildfire of all the things. Even the war hungry northerners feared such a weapon and sought for centuries ways to counter it, without much success. And it was in this moment that Alaric wished his ancestors had succeeded which only made more angry. 

Without even taking a second to think upon his actions he impulsively thought, “I will show you what I think of you….” Spitting directly in the man’s eyes and hissing with great venom, “ I will kill you for what you’ve done!” 

A blow glanced off the side of his cheek. But Alaric who had felt harsher blows in training and battle barely blinked. Yet he knew instantly it would join a collection of bruises upon his teak colored skin. Smirking in defiance when the pyromancer hissed out with great embarrassment, “My king, this one should be bathed in fire for his insolence like that dog of a father.” He wiped away the spit from his earthy eyes. 

The insult caused him to snarl and then baring his teeth like the proud wolf of his house. “Kill him!” Aerys screeched in agreement with the pyromancer.   
Closing his eyes he thought, “I guess this is the end of the line.” Never in a hundred years did Alaric think he would be in a position like this.   
Turning his thoughts towards his beautiful brood of children playing back in the winter gardens of the North, happy and unaware of what he was facing. He wanted his last memories to be of happy times with his children instead of the horror he was sure Brandon and father had experienced. Thinking with great sadness, “Soon I shall be joining my beloved father and brother.” 

Exhaling as he waited to be bathed in the embrace of the legendary wildfire. He was sure it was being specially prepared for his insolent tongue. Holding back a flinch when a metal tub slammed on the ground next to his body. Thinking he had only seconds left before agony exploded all over his body he decided to take one last jab at this king and courters who would be dead men walking once his remaining siblings got word of this. 

Taking a deep breath for courage before speaking with loud defiance, “You may think this is a horrible death for me. But in truth it shall be a release!” Apparently the jab that was meant to be defiance in the face of madness but instead awoke the mad king from his stupor. 

A second thought entered those mad eyes of his, “Wait!” A pale, thin hand with spidery long fingers and nails longer than any man’s should be, raised itself.   
Watching carefully as a mad grin carved its way across Aerys face, “On second thought, I want such a defiant boy like you to suffer! It shall be so much fun breaking this little traitor!!” Letting out a hacking laugh of joy. 

Once he got himself together he continued on, “Lock this defiant pup in the lowest part of the dungeon’s until I say otherwise! Let this little snow remember the screams of his father and the fright in his brother’s eyes!! Death would be too kind; I want this one to be broken when he burns….”Purred Aerys by the end. His long nailed hand moved to stroke down the slender arm of his frozen queen who barely suppressed a flinch. 

Grey eyes hardening with undying hatred he spat his threat aloud, “The north will not forget this!” He vowed with such conviction and anger shaking in his voice.   
Causing many of the disgusting southron dogs to turn pale. These foolish lords and knights of summer remembered all too well the tales, sang, and murmured about the hour of the wolf. One of the north’s finest hours in Alaric’s opinion. This filled him with great pride that even more than a century later his ancestor Cregan Stark could inspire in them such fear. 

Continuing unabashedly, “Even if you kill all the Stark’s, my people shall go on! They will fight don to every last man, woman and child!!” 

His tongue suddenly started to paint a picture of what would come to pass, “We shall fight in the raging rivers of the riverlands! Inside the neck which holds dangerous secrets you only imagine!! We will rain arrows down upon you atop moat cailin if you should even survive all before that!!! We will fight atop the snowcapped mountains to the vast forests inside our territory and the rugged beaches surrounding our ports!!!! The North shall never surrender to a man like you or that rapist of a son!!!!!” By the end of his rant his threatening words echoed all around the vast chamber. 

With great triumph he thought, “My people would be proud.” Alaric hoped songs would be sung in Northern taverns and halls of his defiance to Westeros’s maddest king. 

Egged on despite knowing the danger his tongue was currently putting him in he took it a step further, “You will hear mad king Aerys their mourning cries echoing death to this mad king! As they march towards you’re mad prince who stole my sister, before coming for your head!!” 

These words sparked a fiery rage within instead of the mourning Alaric should be feeling. But he was much too angry and bitter to mourn the horrible death of his father. Much less the frightening fear his beloved brother must have felt in his cruel last moments. 

“Take this dog away!” Screeched Aerys with spittle flying all around. 

Those sharp claws that belonged more to an evil being than a man clutched at his young son prince Viserys. The poor boy had tried to move of his lap towards his mother Queen Rhaella probably in fright from all that he had witnessed. Alaric didn’t envy the poor woman in the slightest for the work she would have to do to explain this madness to such a young man. 

But at the same time it angered him inside, “Damn you mad king Aerys! Are you trying to make more people suffer such as you son? Or drive them mad like you did the queen herself or your heir?” 

Alaric wondered if Aerys was the reason the mad prince was a madman himself. Or how beautiful Rhaella’s bore a hint of instability. Yet such a sight brought only pity instead of anger because of all that poor woman had endured from such a man. 

Before he could ponder upon this interesting hypothesis he had more to witness. Watching as the young prince was jerked into that mad man’s lap once more. A large shriek escaped the poor boy’s thin lips, “You’re hurting me!” Viserys wailed in such painful terror that even it struck a chord in his harden heart.

A clawed hand connected with his fair cheek causing another scream to escape the boy’s lips and tears to run down his young face. His father screeched furiously, “How dare you betray me, boy?!”

“If it were your son I’d betray you too!” He thought sarcastically to himself thanking the Old gods his father was nothing like this man here was. 

The mad king then shoved the poor child off his lap and pointed directly at his battered queen, “Take you’re weak spawn away my traitress queen and you shall away my visit within your chambers where our heir shall be made.” Queen Rhaella paled but wordlessly took the small hand of her young prince. Whose beautiful lilac eyes were paralyzed from fear of what he witnessed or just now. 

He then realized Aerys called Queen Rhaella his traitress queen and he wondered what that meant. For he had only heard rumors of the queen’s dignified loyalty despite the king’s mistreatment even before madness. Or the words our heir, as if he didn’t consider the princes and princesses queen Rhaella already born from that bastard Rhaegar to the not long lived princess Rhae as not his. 

But thinking no further upon this instead he began to struggle fiercely in the grip of these so-called Kingsguard who blackened the honor of such an organization. Even further they made a mockery of the vows of knighthood following such a mad man. With great scorn he thought, “A real knight would have stabbed this king in the back for his disgraceful actions.” 

Remembering the rumors of how this king burned innocent people in wildfire. The most horrifying of which was the story of small hungry children who had no one and had to steal in order to survive only to be burned by a king whose duties should include caring for those who needed him the most. 

In the North, a child would never to be so down on hard times as to steal and live in these disgraceful conditions those of flea bottom endure. They would be taken care of by a special fund set by the Northern council to purchase food, shelter, and other items until they could care for themselves when of age. A bonus was they received an education on par with the nobles and chose the path of solider, banker, and more. 

Soon Alaric found himself outside the doors of the room where his father and brother perished, he came to a cold realization. This was the moment the bright and handsome jolly lad who could out drink many Northernmen and slept around with all the women would have him, died. He thought with darkening rage, “And now I shall be reborn into a monster that’s song of vengeance shall be sung in these halls long after I’m gone, like Cregan the white wolf.” Hardening his heart as he made this official vow. 

Thinking coldly, “Too bad I don’t have my hands free. Nor a knife so I can make a blood debt.” But there would be time later and Alaric wouldn’t forget these images. Nay they would haunt him till the end of his days .

“Like Theon the hungry wolf who hungered for vengeance against all those who dared to invade his lands or tread about his peoples of life. I too hunger to avenge the unjustifiable slight against my family done by these mad dragons!” He darkly glowering with such hatred his mother of who belonged to the people harmony and love who loved peace above all else would weep. 

Numbly watching as he was dragged further into the descent of darkness inside this keep’s vast dungeon like a similar journey his heart was currently taking. He could hear the moans of pain from what he was sure was horrible torture this king put his so-called enemies. To the screams of fright from men, women, and children desperate to be out of the darkness who surely had done anything truly horrible to deserve this. 

But Alaric proudly stared ahead barely batting an eyelash, his thoughts were too consumed with dark roaring hatred and what vengeance he should choose. Meanwhile those so-called strong men that called themselves nights flinched too and froe. At the terrifying sounds echoing through the darkness to the vomit wrenching sight that brief flashes of light from the torches allowed in such a place. 

Alaric focusing his thoughts seething over what plan of action he should take to achieve his end goal against this mad king and his sick followers when he escaped. Flashing through his mind were a thousand painful ways he could end each and every one of them. But each sounded too good for these scum of Westeros.   
Ideas from calling upon old flame Katara Snow who was the older sister of Roose and the mother of his eldest child Cregan. She who adored him greatly would surely help him slowly flay them alive with obsidian daggers like the words of her house. How Katara embodied the words our blades are sharp so very well from her skills with knifes to the sharp tongue she possessed. 

He thought with lecherous cruelty, “We are now the perfect match before the eyes of the old gods, darkness to darkness.” Despite her great beauty little Katara had a dark heart and a gleam in her eyes that told him she enjoyed the pain she inflict on the enemies of their home. 

Who knew maybe as a reward for how long she prolonged their suffering as she ripped screams of agony out of their throats. To match the haunting melody of his brother and fathers that echoed through his ears even now down in this dark cage. Pleasure of such a sight, “I would reward her highly for it.” 

Smiling somewhat crazily, “Perhaps I shall give her what she always expected of me.” The only one of his former string of lovers who was sure to understand the changed man he was becoming and who always wanted for herself. 

“Or perhaps there is something more devious.” Grinning madly so much so that it caused a guard who held one side of him, “I told you this place was bad! He hasn’t even been here long and he’s already mad!” The panic in his tone excited him yet fury pierced his heart at being called mad. 

“As if you wouldn’t be mad witnessing what happened into that throne room!” The other guard snapped irritably, “Quit worrying we’re almost there.”   
Eyeing this particular guard he thought darkly, “Soon you shall need to worry for what I intend to do to you.” 

Pondering upon earlier idea that he could use another lover’s connection to lys to feed them a deadly combination of poisons that even the grand maester himself couldn’t sort out. Or calling upon an old flame who could find him plague covered food from some foreign port to feast upon until it was too late when they realized what they had just consumed.

“There are so many possible ways to get revenge. But which should I choose first.” His twisted mind developing plans as each one grew more gruesome than the last.   
“I might even use all of them” a twisted smile of content made its way across his chapped lips at this thought. 

Alaric would use each specially designed plan he crafted just in mind for all of them. He would choose one of them at his discretion depending on who his target was at the time. So this way he would be unamused at the thought of their agony. Nor would he allow them any easy way out no matter how little they had to do with the tragedy of his father and brother.

“Yes that’s what I’ll do” He purred with dark amusement lacing his thoughts. 

He was a man on a mission as a creak broke through his dark thoughts. Finding himself thrown inside a rust filled cell full of harsh smells of something rotting and tangled wet moss. To the skidding of rats and mice he was sure would come prowling around tonight. Along with the echoing of waves smashing against the keep in the way the upper levels would never feel. 

Thinking coldly, “I must be very far down.” Noting how the guard’s flinched intimidation and he realized this was its purpose, so he held his head up high.   
Alaric was now surrounded by such musty smells and mucky things not even the North’s harsh dungeons held. Not that he had ever experienced such things before as the beloved bastard of a noble lord. But so consumed with hatred and a will to defy a mad man he would bare all of this until the time was ripe to escape. 

Thinking calming comfort, “I will not be here forever they shall soon see.” Observing with sharp interest the way they shackled him in the chains. He was looking to spot the mechanics of how they worked so he could escape once ready. 

Darkly glowering as the light walked away with those two men who brought him here. He hoped and prayed they would be here the day he escaped so he could kill them first. And force each of them to watch the light leave their eyes the way they forced him to bare these last memories of Brandon. 

Once he was sure that the fools were gone he moved to unlock each shackle with a dark grin of victory carved on his lips. Stumbling upwards ignoring the flowing crimson from stinging wounds dealt to his body and the swollen bruises that ached more harshly than any training secession could do. 

Becoming so overwhelmed with emotion he snapped. With animalistic brutality he had never known before he lashed out at the stone wall in a dark rage. Plans of escape flashed in his head until it settled on one, “Yes!” He happily crowed with a twisted grin of glee making its way across his full lips. 

Coldly wiped away the blood covered his face and then ripping away fabric to bandage his broken fist. Ignoring the pain that seared through his veins who would have normally brought him to his knees in tears. Yet he was filled with a vigor he had never known before he moved into the style had always fought but with changes.   
Moving with one fist instead of two he normally used in the basic stances. Soon he would have to learn to switch his blade into his weaker hand. Alaric prayed his broken hand wasn’t lost forever by the vicious brutality of that so-called honorable Kingsguard. 

Practicing with such fiery intensity until sweat poured down his body and he wanted to lay down from tiredness and grief over what he had gone through upon this day. He exclaimed to himself, “No, not yet!” pushing through the next movement despite his aching limbs. 

Alaric’s need for revenge kept fueling him to get strong enough to cut a path of crimson through this keep to escape. With dark determination he thought, “I shall not rest until they all pay.” He didn’t have a list of names for now. But there were ways to obtain each name and Alaric’s need for payback wouldn’t be tempered by torture nor time.


End file.
